I was in Kenya this July, in Samburu County, working on a story about cheetahs, and found myself camping with conservationists at the ranger station in Meibae Community Conservancy. Meibae, founded in 2006 through the Northern Rangelands Trust, borders the Ewaso Nyiro River in Samburu County. It’s a dry, rocky region, subject to drought, and it’s a key wildlife corridor for the endangered Grevys zebra, as well as cheetahs and elephants. The local people, the Samburu, are pastoralists who keep goats, sheep, and camels and live in semi-permanent home clusters called manyattas. Samburu communities collaborate with the Northern Rangelands Trust in monitoring wildlife and creating management plans and future tourism initiatives. My Samburu guide, Chris Lentaam, was kind enough to act as an interpreter and facilitate interviews in the local market, where we spoke with young warriors (known as moran) and women about the state of wildlife and their concerns about the recent severe drought. The day was cut short when word came from the ranger station about a dead elephant in the area. The rangers’ truck was out for repairs, and they needed a ride to the site. We dropped off two rangers by the side of the road, and they marched into the bush where the elephant was said to be, about six miles from the road.

By nightfall, confirmation came that the elephant had been poached. More....

The shooter had laid up atop a flat, house-sized boulder - no more than 10 metres from the elephant - and blasted a bullet down through the animal's head.

The poachers set to work, hacking off the tusks under a setting sun before scurrying up a rocky ridge, trekking off into the night. The slain elephant was around 25 years old, its tusks weighing five kilograms apiece. Nearby, a herder grazing livestock heard the shot echo and began running for his manyatta settlement. Within three hours, 14 armed rangers converged at the nearest road access - an eight kilometre hike from where the elephant's carcass lay. The rangers were each of them Samburu tribesmen. Tracking is in their blood. But you can't track without light. They waited until dawn. By the time they reached the carcass, the poachers had 10 hours on them. "They were very clever," said Chris Lentaam, a ranger, pointing at the rocky ridge beside the stinking carcass as he clutched his antiquated rifle. "They jumped between boulders so we couldn't follow their footprints easily."The rangers tracked for a near solid two days, scouring the terrain for prints. But the poachers were long gone.Near extinctionMore....